Ghosts of the Past
by Jaiaelle
Summary: Two years later, Abby returns to the island. Based on personal speculation about what's to come.


_Author's Note: Another Harper's Island fic, again based off of my own speculation. It has a pretty lame ending by the way, but I wanted to fit in the title of the last episode. Please read and review!_

**_Ghosts of the Past_**

It had been two years.

Two years since John Wakefield's second massacre.

Two years since she had discovered the betrayal by one of her dearest friends.

Two years…and she was returning to the awful place where it had all happened. Part of her feared that everything would begin again, that more people would be murdered simply by her presence there, but she knew that Wakefield was really dead, this time, because she had pulled the trigger that had killed him.

And Henry…Henry Wakefield, not Dunn, as he had told her all those years ago, was not among the living either. Jimmy had made sure of that.

Stepping off the boat, she glanced at her companion, thoughts of Jimmy flooding her mind. The way he smiled, the way he touched her, the way he said her name… As her feet hit the pier, her eyes flooded with tears.

"I know," her companion said, gruffly, pushing her forward a bit.

Insides quivering, she walked absent mindedly through the crowds, the tourists who came to see the place where John Wakefield had committed acts of senseless killing, twice. They would hear about his affair with her mom, about how her dad had lied about killing him the second time, about the son he had discovered and recruited as a killer in training.

Henry. Shuddering, she rubbed her arms, trying to forget about his eyes, cold and calm, as he had come at her with a knife, relating his sob story of being adopted but never knowing until Wakefield had contacted him. About how he had planned for the wedding to take place on Harper's Island for his dad. She had seen him kill Trish, the woman he claimed to love, leaving a spreading red stain on the once pure white wedding gown.

Feeling rushed, the thoughts propelling her forward, she started to run. Feet pounding against the cement, she soon cleared the crowds and found herself standing in the woods. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she stood, the mists wrapping around her, as of yet not cleared by the sun.

"Hey…is that...? Yes, it's her!"

Hearing voices, she whipped her head around, finding herself the object of attention of several people.

"It's…Abby Mills."

Wanting to scream at them to just let her be, she found she didn't have the energy to even speak. They started to come toward her but were stopped by her companion, who commanded their interest almost immediately. His eyes told her to continue and so she did.

The graveyard was quiet, as a graveyard should be.

She came to the first headstone, one shared by two, and dropped to her knees before it. Pale fingers stretched to trace the names of those buried underneath the earth.

"Dad…Mom…" It was difficult to go on. Wiping away her tears, she sniffled before saying what she had to. "I should've come. Before. It was just so hard… I remembered you though, at the anniversary of each of your…deaths." A strangled sob exited her mouth at the word, as she remembered seeing both of her parents, hanging, lifeless and limp. "I…think about you all the time… I love you." It didn't seem enough but she knew, had they been there, both her parents would have understood. They would have embraced her, stroked her hair, and whispered their love in return.

For a long time, she stayed in that position, unwilling to move, feeling safe, as if her parents were there, watching over her.

After what might've been five minutes, but could've just as likely been an hour, she almost heard her father's gently prodding. "Go see the others."

There were many others. Malcolm, Booth, Chloe, Cal, JD… The body count had just grown higher and higher in such a short span of time. But some were more dear to her than others and not all were buried on the island.

Shane was here. He hadn't exactly been her pal. In fact, he had hated her for leaving Jimmy when she had been eighteen. Never had he forgiven her for wounding the best friend he counted as brother.

"Hey," she said, staring at his headstone, a small smile on her face. "You probably still hate me. But…I just wanted to know that I don't think you were such a bad guy. Shea told me how you stayed and tried to protect the woman that day at the Cannery. Mighty noble of you. Surprising to me but…Jimmy…he knew you had it in you."

Hesitating at the name of her first boyfriend, she wondered if she could force herself to continue. Steeling herself against roiling emotions, she moved to the next set of headstones.

"Kelly…Nikki…" Biting her bottom lip, she attempted to think of something funny to say but instead burst into tears. "Kelly, I'm sorry you never got to come stay with me in L.A. Nikki…no one could've asked for a better friend in high school. You always understood." Her tears stilled for a moment as memory after memory of Nikki washed over her. Smiling, she patted Nikki's headstone, knowing Nikki wouldn't have wanted her to remain sorrowful for too long.

On the breeze, she thought she heard Nikki whisper, "And last but certainly not least…"

Growing somber, she took a few halting steps before falling in front of his headstone. Trembling fingers ran over his name. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

Was there really anything else to say?

"Hey, Abbs, it's okay."

Rigid, she turned her head from side to side, almost expecting to see that grin on his face. Of course, he wasn't there. But the words she had imagined him saying were ones she knew that he would. He had been that kind of guy.

"Jimmy…I didn't believe you. I let everyone else persuade me into thinking that you were guilty. I should've known that you weren't. I should've known…" Leaning at the waist, she pressed her face to the soft grass, recalling the words she had said to him so long ago, when he lay with Henry's bullet in his stomach, life leaving him. She had apologized over and over. His only response had been to touch her face and whisper the words that he had always felt.

"I love you Abby."

A lump formed in her throat but she wasn't sure if it had ever really been dissolved.

His death had been the catalyst to get her to do what she had to. Kill John Wakefield.

Henry had already been killed, thanks to Jimmy, who had used his last breath to shoot him, the one who had betrayed them all, in the heart.

Not his last breath, she corrected herself. That had been saved to make his final declaration to her.

"I loved you too Jimmy. I loved you…"

The breeze danced across her face, feeling like a lover's touch. "I know…"

Everything she had been holding, for two years, was finally released in that moment. The heavy weight gone, Abby slumped against the ground.

A hand on her shoulder startled her and it took a second for her to realize that it was a real person and not a ghost of the past.

"You okay?"

Taking the hand he offered her in assistance, she stood, brushing off the front of her jeans as she did so. "I'm better than I have been in a long time."

"Good." Placing an arm around her waist, he started to lead her away from the graveyard. "Shea and Madison are waiting for us at the Candlewick."

Resting her head on his shoulder, she could only hope that the other three survivors would be able to confront the past as she had and emerge on the other side stronger. "Are you okay?"

"I'm with you," he replied, without a thought. "That means I'm just fine."

She started to respond, then stopped and twisted her head to glance one more time behind her. They were all there, silhouetted against the dim light. All were smiling, telling her with their eyes to be free. The one that she had once called lover gestured at the man beside her, as if to say, "Don't wait 'til it's too late to tell him how you feel."

Swallowing, she decided it best to take Jimmy's advice.

Halfway to the Candlewick, she stopped him, grasping both his hands and gazing into his eyes. "I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" He cocked a half grin at her, tilting his head to one side. Stroking her bangs out of her eyes, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. "What's that?"

Gathering all her courage, she whispered, "Christopher Sullivan, I love you."

Not at all surprised by her words, he laughed. "I knew that Abby Mills. I've known that for awhile. Glad you got around to saying it though. And guess what? I love you too."

Shaking her head, she said, "Why do I put up with you?"

" 'Cause no one else will." Not giving her the chance to retort, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her.

Sliding her arms around the back of his neck, she kissed him back, the world around her disappearing. Pulling away, she grinned wickedly at him. "Race you to the Candlewick. On your mark, get set…" Skipping the last word, she darted ahead, hearing a protest of "Hey, that's not fair!" behind her. Giggling, she went faster, hearing him behind her, trying to catch up.

Things would never be the same, she thought as she dashed down the path, but it was nice to finally be free from the burdens that had been her constant companions for so long.

It was nice, after so many years, to be able to let out a contented sigh and know that there would be many more sighs come tomorrow.


End file.
